


Only You

by glaciya



Series: JayTimWeekFall2018 [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, And Alvin Draper, Civilian Jason Todd, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Porn, Jason Todd is Soft, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, One-sided JayRoy (only in the beginning), Past Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent - Freeform, Platonic Soulmates, Roy Harper's past Drug Addiction, Slow Burn, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Tim Drake is Red Robin, Tim Drake with questionable morals, and a strong desire to keep jay Safe and Happy, but still has a good heart, like slower than a 98 YO on the highway with vision problems slow
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-15
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-08-24 04:46:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16633208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glaciya/pseuds/glaciya
Summary: How the civilian nobody Jason Todd still finds himself involved with the vigilantes of Gotham...and the criminals.___________________“Thank you,” he says softly.“Don’t thank me for that,” Jason repeats Red’s words back at him, trying to joke.It makes Red frown.“I can’t be your friend,” he says, and Jason’s chest heaves.“Why not?”“Because…” Red’s jaw works. He runs a gloved hand over the top of his cowl. He’s used to having hair to brush out of his face, Jason realizes, securing that fact in his memory. “It’s dangerous. I have enemies. I could get you hurt.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! So! This is a project I've been thinking about off and on for over a year and am only just now at a stage where I can get started. Some things I'm wanting to explore in this fic
> 
> -A Soulmate AU in which Jason and Tim AREN'T SOULMATES, but they're going to fall helplessly and intensely in love anyway <33  
> \- Jason's beautiful friendship with Roy. (Be warned, Jason is in love with Roy at the start, but that'll all get solved with time)  
> \- A "darker" Tim Drake. By that I don't mean he's bad. He's just been hurt a lot over the years, and is closed off now. He's been refereed to as the most like Batman, so we're exploring that closed-off side of him. He's still a kind-hearted nerdy boy at heart so be patient!!  
> -The What If Jason hadn't been discovered by Bruce? What if he'd be discovered on the streets by Black Mask instead? What if he's trying to pull away from a life involved with Mask's gang, finally go to college and get his life on track.  
> Anyway! These are just things you can expect with Only You as they are things I've been wanting to explore for awhile now.  
> This will be a longer fic, with slower updates at the start, until my schedule slows down. Just please be patient! I'm really dedicated to this story!  
> ***This first chapter also fills jaytimweeks day four prompt- College!

The man across the bar has been staring at him for awhile now. His eyes shine with bright neon colors around him, flashing red-purple-yellow, along with the steady thrum of music pulsing through the club. On a pause between songs, between the flashing lights, Jason catches that his eyes are a blue like ice. Paired with sleek black hair that frames a sharp, delicate jawline, high cheekbones, and fancy clothes, the man stands out in a club full of broke college students. The watch draped over his thin wrist likely costs more than Jason’s tuition. 

It’s not unusual to see one of Gotham’s higher class members mingling with the college population. Jason knows they think they’re being a bit wild, getting away from their boring lives of steadily paid bills and golf outings and gossip to fuck around with people they think are beneath them, people they think should be so very grateful to get their time of day. Jason doesn’t mind though. Their own hubris will make them easy targets for him.

For the first time since Jason first noticed the man’s attention, Jason faces him fully instead of just watching out of the corner of his eye. When they lock eyes, Jason lets his lips curl up in a smile and feels a little rush of excitement when the man slides out of his seat and makes his way across the floor to him. It might be a bit of adrenaline in preparation for the risky game Jason is about to play, he always did like to live a little dangerously, or it might be from the clear attention from an attractive man. Jason is only human after all. 

Jason forces himself not to watch the man’s path to him, sucking on the remains of the water he’d ordered earlier. Still, he feels it when the man slides onto the bar stool next to him, the soft brush of a silk shirt against his arm and the warm press of a hand on his shoulder. 

“Hello,” the man says. His voice is softer than Jason was expecting. He’s used to Gotham’s wealthiest being loud and obnoxious, wanting to be the center of attention. 

“Hi yourself,” he replies simply and lets his own voice dip low and smooth. “I don’t recognize you. Are you new to Gotham U?”

Something flashes behind the man’s eyes, passing too quick for Jason to begin to guess what it is. “What do you mean?”

At this Jason hesitates. He honestly hadn’t thought much of the ice-breaker, but maybe the man didn’t like being called out for scoping out a college party for a one night stand. “Some kids from the university are out celebrating the first football game win of the season,” he explains, throwing a thumb over his shoulder to point at where he knows part of the team has taken over one of the round tables in the corner of them club. 

Jason originally came here with them, with Roy, but went to the bar shortly after hearing a rerun of the saving play Roy made to win the game for the fifth time that night. He loves Roy, but there’s only so much football talk he can take. 

The man tilts his head to look at where Jason’s pointing with a thoughtful expression on his face. “Well congratulations to your friends, but I can’t say I’m much of a local sports fan. I’m just in town for a work conference, I’ll be gone by tomorrow afternoon.”

“I see,” Jason says nonchalantly when inside he’s cheering. He knows in a city as big as Gotham, it’s unlikely that he’d run into a target again soon enough after stealing from them that they’d recognize him, but it’s always a risk. An out of town target though…

He turns and signals the bartender over to them and holds back a smirk when the man beside him speaks before Jason can.

“I’ll have a Guinness, and whatever my friend wants. On my tab,” he says, throwing a wink in Jason’s direction.

“Thank you,” Jason says to him. Another thing about rich people, they just loved throwing their money around. To the bartender he says, “I’ll try a Guinness as well.”

“I’m Alvin,” the man-Alvin-says once the bartender moves away from them.

“It’s Jay,” Jason answers simply. He sure as hell isn’t letting the man he’s about to steal from know his full name.

Alvin hums and sounds a little sad when he says, “Jay. What a pretty name.”

Their beers come, and they make small talk.It’s all boring stuff, neither of them giving too much away. Jason, since he’s trying to keep his identity as bland as possible for when Alvin will file a police report later, and Alvin, probably not thinking a potential one night stand is worth giving too much information to.  

The conversation lulls to a natural stop by the time they’re both halfway done with their beers.  Jason knows then it’s time to move things forward to the next step. He presses the beer to his lips and tosses his head back, finishing off the beer in two large gulps. When he puts the bottle back down, he licks his lips and turns to Alvin to-

“Do you like it?” 

Jason blinks. “Like...what?”

“The beer,” Alvin clarifies. “You told the bartender you wanted to try it after I ordered it. I wondered what you thought of it.”

“Oh. It’s nice,” he shrugs. “It tastes kind of like coffee to be honest.”

“Right,” Alvin says, perking up. “That’s why I like it so much. You can’t exactly order coffee at a bar.”

“You can’t get a buzz off of it either.”

Alvin snorts. “I think I prefer a caffeine high to a buzz anyway.”

“You don’t drink very often, do you?” Jason observes. 

“Not really,” Alvin says. “I don’t usually have time for it.”

Jason nods in reply. He wonders how much Alvin had to drink before having a beer with Jason. It seems like it’s starting to get to him now. There’s a flush on Alvin’s cheeks that runs down his neck and his posture has loosened up, leaving a slouch at his shoulders as he rests his chin on his palm. His eyes are bright and there’s a slight smile on his lips from their conversation about coffee, of all things. It’s the first genuine expression Jason has seen on Alvin’s face, and it just makes him look  _ so young _ .  

At first Jason thought Alvin to be a little older than him because of the way he dressed, but this close he can see a softness in his jawline, a rounding in his high cheekbones that make Jason realize Alvin is likely a couple years younger than him. Young, rich, pretty Alvin has the world at his hands and somehow he managed to end up in a club on Gotham’s shady side of town, sharing his time with Jason. 

Jason almost pities him for it. Almost. 

A life growing up on the streets didn’t leave much room for pity in Jason’s life, not when he has bills due in the next week. He knows Alvin will recover easily from whatever Jason takes from him tonight, anyway. And, now that Alvin is clearly more than a little intoxicated, Jason knows it’s time to move forward with his plan. 

“Why don’t you finish your beer,” he purrs, shifting his leg to press against Alvin’s. “So we can go dance together.”

Alvin tenses, hesitating for a moment before he nods.

“Okay,” he says. “Okay.” He tips his head back to finish off his beer and Jason can’t help but be drawn to the way his Adam’s Apple bobs as he swallows. 

Jason rolls his eyes at himself and grabs Alvin’s hand the second he sets the bottle back down to drag him out onto the dance floor. He knows it time to get this over with. 

The music pulses around them, bass too loud to really hear the lyrics, as Jason searches for a space among the crowd for the two of them. He needs a spot near the center, where people will be pressing in all around them, that way if Alvin feels any strange touches he’ll write it off as someone other than Jason. 

When he finds a space as soon as any, he twirls around, using his hold on Alvin’s arm to tug him up against Jason’s chest. Jason feels more than hears Alvin’s startled sound as their bodies press flush against each other and has to fight the urge to laugh at him. He’s startled by his temptation to want to tease a target. Normally he wouldn’t risk offending them so late in the game. 

Alvin recovers quickly, sliding his arms up Jason’s forearms and biceps slowly until they settle on his shoulders. His fingernails digging on the edge of painful into the back of Jason’s neck. His legs part around Jason’s thigh as Jason’s hands settle on his hips, and with that final touch of closeness, they start to move.

Alvin’s as happy with following Jason’s lead and Jason is taking it. He rocks back as Jason grinds forward, their movements a tease of activities usually saved for the privacy of a bedroom. Alvin knows it too, given the little grin on his lips as he watches Jason through half lidded eyes. Sweat starts to bead across Jason’s forehead as the song changes and their rhythm speeds up with the new beat. 

Jason starts to move his hands halfway through the song, digging his thumbs into Alvin’s hips before he risks a feel up Alvin’s shirt to caress the abs underneath. Alvin’s rhythm stutters just long enough to make Jason panic and think he overstepped, but before he can pull back Alvin presses up closer to him and buries his face into Jason’s neck. It makes Jason relax, much as he can with an attractive and surprisingly buff body writing against him. His hands continue their exploration of Alvin’s body, unchallenged.

There’s a pulse of heat in his stomach as he traces the line of Alvin’s abs, lets his fingers brush against the trail of hair just under Alvin’s belly button. Alvin responds to this by pressing gentle kisses along the side of Jason’s neck. 

Jason hands slide around Alvin’s waist, and he’s struck by the sudden fact that Alvin is so small against him, Jason’s hands can explore such a wide expanse of his skin without really moving all too much. Small not delicate, Jason notes, caution on his mind, as he kneads the muscles in Alvin’s lower back, feeling them work as Alvin presses himself even closer still. If he’s being honest with himself, it’s hormones and hormones alone that encourage Jason to slide his hands into the back pockets of Alvin’s pants to grab a handful of flesh and pull until Alvin’s pelvis is successfully trapped between Jason’s hands and thigh. 

Alvin chuckles breathily against his ear and gives a sharp nip to his neck. As Alvin follows it up with a lick, the soulmark on Jason’s forearm tingles and for a moment he forgets all about the man in front of him as he searches through the crowd, finding Roy at his table across the club and locking eyes with him. 

Roy’s surrounded by his friends like he was when Jason left him, but for now, his attention is held only by Jason. Jason stares as Roy waggles his eyebrows playfully at him, showing how okay he is with the fact that his soulmate is dancing with another man, and Jason’s heart just  _ aches _ as he smiles back at Roy.  He knows there is such a thing as platonic soulmates. In fact, they’re just as common as romantic soulmates these days. And he’s so grateful him and Roy found each other, grateful that someone loves and cares for him like Roy does. He just can’t help wishing for more at times like these. 

Luckily, Roy doesn’t notice Jason’s heartbreak and turns his attention back to the crowd of jocks surrounding him.The moment leaves a bitter feeling welling up in his chest and he acts thoughtless, grabbing Alvin’s wallet out of his back pocket and transferring it into his own in a movement too quick to be careful. 

Alvin stiffens against him and Jason’s sucks in a breath, thinking he’s blown it now. That any second now Alvin will make a scene, shouting out that Jason’s a thief. That Jason stole from him and he’ll be arrested in front of Roy and his peers. His life at college will be down the drain and-

Warm, chapped lips are suddenly against his in a chaste kiss. The angle isn’t quite right at first but Jason tilts his head automatically to fix it and moves his lips against Alvin’s, their dance moving up to include their mouths now while their bodies still. Alvin pulls back from him and Jason his nearly caught breathless by the sight of the man before him. He’s stunning with his flushed cheeks and kiss-red lips. Alvin’s ice blue eyes are calm, not angry or surprised, as they regard Jason, making Jason let out the breath that has been trapped in his chest. 

The moment Jason relaxes he feels the sharp prick of a needle in his neck. He frowns, bringing a hand up to touch the sore spot while Alvin’s hands fall away from him. 

“What…” he says, uncomprehending. 

In front of him, Alvin’s demeanor has completely changed. He’s no longer the relaxed, slightly buzzed clueless rich boy anymore. He’s posture is rigid, movements clipped as he places the empty syringe back in his front pocket. His eyes are cold and his mouth is set in a hard line.

“Sorry about this,” he says, actually sounding like he means it. “Though, to be fair, you were just trying to steal from me.”

The bodies behind Alvin start to mix and blur together and the lights flashing become impossibly brighter. Jason tries to take a step back but the world starts to spin and he nearly falls into the crowd behind him. Alvin is fast though, reaching a hand out to grab his shirt and tug him forward again. 

“Roy,” Jason mumbles. “ _ Roy.” _

He manages to turn his head over his shoulder toward Roy’s table, but Roy has his back turned to him, laughing as one of his friends playfully punches his arm. 

Alvin lifts Jason’s arm over his shoulders and Jason wonders how is it that Alvin can hold his body weight so easily when he’s nearly half Jason’s size. Jason thinks about resisting, images himself pushing away and punching Alvin in his pretty, deceptive face. His body isn’t in sync with his brain. 

He even tries grabbing onto people as Alvin drags him through the club, but he’s brushed off. 

He still moving forward and he hears laughing. 

He hears Alvin. “Oh, sorry about that. He’s had too much to drink.”

He’s shaking his head and he hears a woman coo. “Aww poor guy.”

Then suddenly they’re outside and Jason’s breathing fresh air. Well, fresher air. He still gags at the rotting smell coming from the dumpster beside them, backed against the alley wall. Alvin gives a little push and sends Jason tumbling into the wall on the opposite end of the alley. Jason’s lands hard, a gasp flying past his lips as he back hits brick. His palm scrapes against the wall, trying to find some semblance of balance again even though his vision is still spinning. 

Alvin takes a step closer to him, reaching a hand out and Jason growls, “ _ Don’t.” _

He isn’t able to finish his sentence but Alvin seems to understand what he means because he raises his arms in a placating gesture and backs off.

“No touching,” Alvin says. “Got it.”

“Yeah, right.” Jason snorts. “Why’d you roofie me, then?” he tries to ask, except his voice is all slurred and it comes out like,  _ why’d’yehrufmehthen? _

“It’s not Rohypnol. It’s actually a drug I made-” Alvin grimaces. “It’s not important. You won’t be conscious for much longer, but you’re memory will be clear tomorrow. That’s what they wanted.”

“They,” he repeats, dread pooling in the pit of his stomach. Several scenarios of what Alvin could have planned for him, what They have planned for him, cross his mind, each one causing his breath to quicken. 

He glances toward the end of the alley, where it exits onto the streets. It’s not too far away, but he can’t imagine being able to outrun Alvin with the drugs in his system. Still, he leans heavily against the wall and shuffles a step. 

Alvin watches him but doesn’t seem too concerned with stopping him. He says, “Penguin has grown tired of this terf war with Black Mask. He wants to send Mask a message tonight and I’m told you’re one of his favorites.” 

“Oh fuck,” Jason groans. “Fucking bastard.” He knew Roman would get him pulled into his crime drama. If only he’d known how much trouble Mask would cause him when Jason first met him. He’d have run straight in the other direction. Well, he had tried to run straight it the other direction, he just hadn’t made it very far. 

Alvin cocks his head. “You know you don’t act like most of the thugs Mask hires. I thought Penguin’s men were mistaken, or that at least you weren’t as bad as the rest of them when we started talking at the bar.” He smiles a little crookedly. “Then, of course you stole from me.”

Jason grits his teeth. “I’m not one of Mask’s thugs.”

This makes Alvin frown, but a white van screeches to a halt in the street in front of the alley that Jason has slowly been moving toward. The doors slide open and out step four men, clearly dressed up as Penguin’s goons, and Jason knows he’s in for a shitstorm. 

Despite the fact that he can barely keep his eyes open at this point and holding himself up is taking all his concentration, Jason still tries to fight when one of them grabs a tight hold on his arm. He swings his fist up and over in a clumsy, weak movement. His aim is true but the force isn’t there like he wants it to be, and his knuckles merely brush against the thug’s chin before his hand falls weakly at his side.

Laughter echoes around the alley walls. 

“That was pathetic. Here, let me show you how to throw a real punch.” And Jason can only shut his eyes and wait for the inevitable beating. As he waits, he vows that if he makes it out of this he’ll find some way, some how to get back at Black Mask for getting him involved in all of this, even if it means going to the police. 

The hit never comes, and after a minute Jason hears the thug holding him exclaim, “Hey! What the hell?”   


Jason’s forces his eyes open, even though his lids feel like they’re weighted by lead, and finds Alvin standing by his side, holding the thug’s first in a grip so tight both of their arms shake with it. For the first time tonight, Alvin looks angry.

“This wasn’t part of the deal,” he snaps.

The thug tries to tug his wrist out of Alvin’s grip and looks a little worried when he can’t shake him off. “Yeah it was. You bring us one of Mask’s men and you get your meeting with the boss. You don’t have any say in what happens to him after.”

Alvin sneers. “Then give me Penguin’s contact information.”

“It doesn’t work like that, dude. Look, we’ll tell the boss what you did for us tonight and then he’ll reach out to-” The thug cuts off with a whine as Alvin twists his wrist sharply.

“Give me his contact information. Now.”

The thug gulps and nods his head in a jerking motion toward the men closer to the van. “Give it to him.”

As one of the thugs starts digging in his pocket, Jason and Alvin make eye contact again. In that instant, Jason sees something that’s almost like concern pass over Alvin’s features, but before Jason can read it as anything that actually makes sense, his eyes slip closed against his will.

Time blurs and blends as he slips between consciousness and sleep, the drugs in his system warring with his panic and need to know what’s going on. One second his eyes are closed and the next he’s staring at Alvin’s back as he’s being dragged down the alley, toward the van. His eyes close and open again. He’s in the van and the doors are sliding shut as he stares down an empty alley where Alvin has disappeared.

Once the van begins to pull away, the thug that must be the leader turns to him with a cruel smile. “Now that the brats out of the way..” His hand draws back, curled into a fist and Jason doesn’t have time to close his eyes this time as the thug punches him. His world explodes in white. 

His eyes stay closed after that, but he can still hear.

He hears the men laughing, and bragging about their find today. 

He hears the laughter and bragging replaced by panicked voices an indefinite amount of time later.

“Oh shit is that Red Robin?”

“How did he find us?”

“I think he’s on the roof!”

“Drive, drive, drive!”

There’s a loud boom, tires screeching, and Jason loses his battle to stay awake.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the feedback so far! I'm really excited about this fic and can't wait until this year from Hell is over so I have more time to spend working on this <33

Jason dreams of the night he was caught trying to steal tires from the Batmobile. 

He’s twelve years old, freezing his ass off, starving, and in desperate need of cash. Desperate enough go leave the minimal warmth of the abandoned building he’s squating in to try to steal parts from fancy cars, in order to sell them. Desperate enough to take one look at the sleek black Batmobile sitting in an alley behind a bank and think, ‘Yeah, this might be a good idea.’

Only, it turns out to be a terrible idea when he can’t even remove the wheel cover of the tires. The armor of the tires protects against various damage, and against pre-teen thiefs, apparently. He bets Batman designed a special button inside the vehicle that would remove the metal guarding around where the lug nuts are, in the rare instance he’d have to change the huge tires. 

Frustrated, Jason beats his wrench against the metal paneling keeping him from getting the parts he needs.

“What are you doing, boy?”

Jason looks up to find the owner of the voice standing under a lamp post. The man is tall, dressed in an expensive red suit. His face seems to be covered in shadows, which is odd to Jason, since the rest of him is lit up so clearly from the lamp. Jason’s mind screams wrong, wrong, wrong, like he isn’t understanding what’s actually there but, before his mind can fully process it, the man shifts and glinting metal draws Jason’s attention downward. 

In one hand, the man holds a large duffel bag, stuffed full. In the other is a magnum. 

“I asked you a question, boy,” he says. 

“Nothing,” Jason says, nervous. “What are you doing?”

The man glares. His grip tightens on the gun and Jason is suddenly so sure he is going to die here, on the dirty streets of Gotham. The man will leave him and he’ll be found later, possibly by Batman himself. He doesn’t have any I.D on him, so they won’t be able to identify him right away. They’ll share a police sketch on him on the News, asking if anyone can provide them with information and no one will come forward because, as far as Jason knows, he comes from nothing, no one. 

A loud crash from the bank followed by a distant scream distracts the man enough that his attention flies away from Jason, his eyes looking wildly around for a threat. The gun lowers slightly, and Jason takes his chance. He grabs his backpack with his tire-stealing tools inside and sprints in the opposite direction.

Footsteps thud heavily and quickly on the concrete behind him. He pushes himself as fast as he can, running toward the intersection where he hopes he might lose the man chasing him. He doesn’t make it very far. The footsteps catch up to him when the intersection is still an impossible distance away. 

An arm wraps around his waist and Jason finds himself lifted in the air. 

“Hey! Fuck off!” Jason cries as he’s dragged back into an alley on the other side of the street from where the Batmobile is. 

The man slams him back against the brick wall, slaps a hand over his mouth and presses the gun into his cheek. 

“You’d be quiet if you knew what’s good for you.” Jason can see clearly now the details of the man’s face. It’s not shadow covering his face, it’s a Mask. One that smells of both metal and rubber, covering the man’s head entirely to make him look like he’s wearing a black skull. The sudden, horrifying knowledge that he’s at the mercy of the crime lord, Black Mask, has Jason shaking. 

He glares, scared out of his mind but still strongly considering biting down on Mask’s gloved hand, hard. Mask’s eyes glint, and it seems for a moment that he’s going to say or do something Jason won’t like very much at all. Luckily, the sound of the Batmobile flying past them distracts Mask. Jason hadn’t even heard Batman enter the vehicle or start it up. By the way Mask jumps and looks over his shoulder at the sound, he didn’t either.

Mask takes awhile to turn his attention back to Jason, like he’s sure Batman would randomly turn the car around and come back for him. Jason can only hope that does happen, but like most of his wishes, they go unanswered.

When Mask turns back to him, that glint in his eyes is still there. “There’s one problem gone,” he says, a slow rumble. “Now, what are we going to do with you?”

And Jason, just a boy with a gun pressed against his head, can only listen and nod when he’s supposed to. 

 

______________

The first thing Jason sees when he wakes up is Roy’s concerned face peering down at him. The very next thing he sees is Roy’s sparkling clean wood floor as he twists to vomit all over it. He spares a moment to feel irrationally sad for the sudden mess, but another gag interrupts the thought and he’s throwing up more bile over the floor. 

There’s a warm hand rubbing a path up and down his spine and a soothing voice in his ear. Part of Jason wants to tell Roy to fuck off. A larger part of him loves it. He heaves twice more before his stomach empties and he can safely slump over to lean against Roy.

“Ugh,” he croaks, with feeling. 

“Let me go get you some water,” Roy says. 

“I can get it. I just need a minute.” Jason makes an attempt to sit up on his own and pitches forward when a wave of dizziness overcomes him. Luckily, Roy catches him before he falls into the vomit. “Or five,” he adds with a grimace. 

Roy chuckles in his ear. “Come on, man. Let’s get you back up on the couch.”

When Jason nods, Roy lifts Jason’s arm around his shoulders and places his own arm around Jason’s waist. Jason tries to help as much as he can by getting his feet under him, but Roy ends up taking most of his weight. Once Roy gets him settled he leaves to get Jason his drink, leaving Jason alone to take self inventory. 

He remembers last night in blurred pieces. Remembers watching the first game of the season and cheering along with Roy, wanting to go home after to get ahead on homework, but letting himself be talked into celebrating. He remembers discussing beers and coffee with Alvin at the bar, dancing with him and stealing from him. He remembers Alvin drugging him, and handing him over to Penguin’s goons. He remembers all the chaos after. 

By the time Roy hands him the glass of water he’s seething. He downs half the glass in one go, feeling a desperate need to brush his teeth and shower. 

Instead he sets his glass down on the coffee table, wipes his mouth off with the back of his hand, and turns to Roy to get some answers. 

“I don’t remember how I got here,” he admits. 

Roy’s green eyes flash, flicking a reflection of the anger Jason was feeling moments ago. “Well I sure as hell remember dragging your heavy ass from the streets to my apartment after Red Robin handed you off to me.”

“I think the guys who took me were shouting about him before I blacked out,” Jason remembers. “He was the one who saved me?”

“Yeah. I guess he made the van wreck and found you in there after he took out Penguin’s men,” Roy narrows his eyes at him. “Penguin’s men, Jason. What the hell have you gotten yourself into now?”

Jason ignores him. “So how did Red Robin know to take me to you? Did he bring me back to the club?”

There’s a silence before Roy replies in which Roy tells Jason with a glare that he’s only letting Jason get away with the subject change for now. “No, he was probably just planning on handing you over to the police.” Roy snorts. “He crashed the van only about a block away from the club. It made a pretty loud bang, so I went to check it out and, low and behold, I found my dumbass best friend being drug out of a wrecked van.”

“And you what, told Red Robin that you were gonna take care of me and he just handed me right over?”

Roy’s lips tilt up in a half grin. “I was very convincing.”

That doesn’t surprise Jason. Roy can be terribly intimidating or persuasive when he needs to be. Jason himself has fallen victim to his wiles more than once. “Thank you for taking care of me,” Jason says, and he means it. He doesn’t know where he would have ended up if Roy hadn’t been there for him. 

“You can thank me by giving me some answers,” Roy grumps. “Starting with, how the fuck did you end up getting kidnapped by gang members? One second you were dancing with a hottie and then the next you disappeared. I thought you’d left with him and were getting laid.”

“He drugged me. Not for that,” Jason says quickly when he sees murder in Roy’s eyes. “He had some sort of deal with Penguin. He was going to exchange me for favor with Penguin because of my…” he hesitates, chewing on his bottom lip, “connection with Black Mask.”

Roy runs a hand through his hair. It’s the only movement he makes for several moments, the rest of him is wire-tight. “Of course I would have a soulmate who happens to get in the middle of a terf war.”

Jason smiles, chest warming at the mention of their connection. “Lucky you.”

“Lucky me,” Roy mutters. When he continues speaking, it’s just as quiet. “You know, when I saw Red pull you out of the van, there was blood all over your face and shirt. I thought you might have-” Roy shakes his head and Jason’s throat clenches. “I kept checking my mark, expecting it to fade to white at any moment.”

He rubs a hand across his forearm then as if warding off the panic again. His sleeves are pulled up, so Jason can see the brightly colored soulmark that spans up Roy’s right forearm. Near his elbow is a red rose in full bloom. Beneath the bloom are leaves sprouting out in the shape of feather fletchings on an arrow. The long green stem acts as the arrows shaft, leading into a red arrowhead on the top of Roy’s wrist. Jason has an exact replica of the mark on his left forearm. Like most soulmarks, his didn’t appear until his sixteenth birthday and only colored itself in after his first handshake with Roy. Their marks will remain colored until one of them dies, then the whoever is left alive with bare a white, colorless soulmark until their own death. 

“You should just come stay here with me,” Roy says suddenly. “You’ll be safer here than in that shithole you’re living in now.”

“Hey, it may be a shithole, but it’s my shithole. Watch your mouth,” he jokes. After a beat he adds, more seriously, “And you know I can’t. We’ve already talked about this.”

“Why, because you have issues with being in someone’s debt?” Roy scoffs. “You wouldn’t owe me anything. You think I can afford to live here just on the paycheck I get from bartending? No way. I stole my dad’s credit card awhile back. He’s been paying the rent since. I probably haven’t been cut off yet only because rich bastard probably doesn’t even notice the money missing from his accounts.”

Jason shakes his head. “Being indebted to someone is what got me involved with Mask. You know that.”

“And you know that I’m not Mask,” Roy argues. “I wouldn’t ask anything of you in return.”

“I just can’t, Roy.” He gives a small smile in the face of Roy’s frustrated look. “Just you being my friend is more than enough for me,” he lied.

Roy sucked in a breath and blew it out in a sigh. “Well, at least let me teach you how to fight properly so you stop being such a damsel in distress.”

“I grew up on the streets. I know how to fight.”

“You know street fighting. You don’t know mixed martial arts.”

“And you do?” Jason laughs, a full belly laugh, right up until he realizes Roy isn’t laughing along with him. “You do?”

Roy shrugs and looks away from Jason. “Another thing from the past.”

“Oh,” Jason says and doesn’t push, despite the curiosity nagging him. Roy has many things from the past that he sometimes hints at but doesn’t talk about. Things like his relationship with the father he hasn’t talked to in years. Or the scars of track marks in his left arm. The scars lining his torso. 

Jason knows it’s likely Roy was involved with some type of gang before he moved to Gotham. It’s probably why he hates the set up Jason has going on with Black Mask so much.

“Well, I wouldn’t say no to being able to kick some ass,” Jason agrees finally.

“Buddy, by the time I’m done with you, you’ll be able to kick several asses, all at once.” Roy grins, all teeth.

______________

Because of staying over late at Roy’s to learn the proper way to block a punch, Jason ends up barely having time to go home, shower, and change into his work uniform before his closing shift at the auto repair shop a few blocks away from his studio apartment. 

Which means, he works past ten that night and has to stay up all night studying for a test tomorrow afternoon. 

Which means, he showers again at three-thirty in the morning at has to leave his house at three forty-five to start his shift at the coffee shop at four in the morning, without sleep. 

Which means, when a flash of red catches his eye as he’s unlocking the shop and he looks up to see Red Robin perched on the top of the sign that hangs over the door, asleep, Jason thinks he’s hallucinating. 

He blinks several times and even goes as far as to pinch his cheek to wake himself up. He winces when it stings.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” he says again when the snoors continue. He raps his knuckles against the glass door to create a noise and watches with a sort of shocked amusement as Red Robin startles, nearly falling off the sign in the process. 

Red catches himself and looks around in a panic before settling. 

“Oh, not again,” Red groans. 

“Again?” Jason asks, and Red’s cowled lens suddenly land on him. “Falling asleep on top of buildings is a normal occurrence for you?”

Red Robin is obviously surprised to see Jason there, like he hadn’t been aware Jason is the one who woke him up. There’s a silence before he replies and Jason starts to think maybe he won’t even get one before Red shifts his shoulders in an uncomfortable shrug and says, “My sleep schedule isn’t what most would call ideal.”

Jason nods. “Sounds a lot like college life.” He’s thankful his voice comes out steady, because in his mind he’s freaking out about the fact that he’s having a conversation with a superhero. The very superhero who saved his life, no less. 

Red leans forward on the balls of his feet gracefully. “What are you going to school for?”

 

“Library science, or that’s the plan anyway. I was undecided when the semester started, so I’m just taking general courses at the community college right now, but hopefully I’ll be able to transfer to Gotham U next fall.” He stops himself when he realizes he’s long past answered Red’s question. “Are you in school?” He winces. “Oh wait. You probably can’t tell me. Secret Identity and all that.”

“Secret identity,” Red confirms, lips quirking. 

He pulls a phone out of his utility belt and checks it, sighing. Jason panics when Red stands, looking behind him over his shoulder like he’s about to leave.

“You saved me last night,” he blurts, relieved when Red turns his attention back to him. “You probably don’t remember, but-”

“I remember,” Red interrupts. “You were the man Penguin’s men kidnapped.” He puts a hand on his hip. “Your boyfriend seemed pretty worried about you. Looked ready to throw down if I didn’t hand you over to him.”

Jason flushes. “Roy isn’t my boyfriend.”

“No? You two have the same soulmark.”

“It’s a platonic bond,” Jason says, failing to keep the edge out of his voice. 

“I see.” Red shifts his weight over to one foot, lifting the other other up and curling it behind his calf. “Well, I’m glad you made it home safe. You should really be more careful. Nothing they were planning to do to you could have been good.”

“I’d be dead by now if it wasn’t for you,” Jason says, trying hard to meet Red’s eyes behind the cowl. “I really can’t thank you enough.”

Red looks down, away from Jason and toward his feet. “Don’t thank me for that.” 

“Okay,” Jason says slowly. “Well, can I make you a coffee or something at least?” He nods his head toward the glass door into the shop. “It’s free.”

Red takes long enough to reply that Jason starts to mentally rehearse what he’ll say when Red rejects him, but then Red says, “I won’t be able to sleep if I have any coffee, but a bagel sounds nice.”

So.

Jason spends the first half hour of his opening shift first making up the best damn bagel he’s ever made, and then after, setting up the shop while sneaking glances at the quiet vigilante eating at the corner booth. 

When Red finishes, he wipes the table himself and makes sure to throw away all his trash.

“Thank you,” he says softly.

“Don’t thank me for that,” Jason repeats Red’s words back at him, trying to joke.

It makes Red frown. 

“I can’t be your friend,” he says, and Jason’s chest heaves.

“Why not?”

“Because…” Red’s jaw works. He runs a gloved hand over the top of his cowl. He’s used to having hair to brush out of his face, Jason realizes, securing that fact in his memory. “It’s dangerous. I have enemies. I could get you hurt.”

“That makes sense,” the rational part of Jason says. It has to be the part of him ruled by his brain, because his heart is beating a steady rhythm of panic and hurt. 

Outside the shop, noise grows as Gothamites begin their daily route to work. The streets slowly start to fill up with traveling cars and power-walking pedestrians. The shop doesn’t open until five, but Jason knows the usual crowd will soon be lining up at the door to fill their caffeine addiction before work. 

Red’s body angles toward the locked glass door facing out onto the street. He knows as well as Jason does that he can’t stay around for long. 

“Thank you for the bagel,” Red says again, this time a definite goodbye.

“No problem,” Jason says automatically, then adds, “I wasn’t asking to be your friend.”

“Oh?”

“No.” Jason says and his voice gives nothing away. “Just paying you back in anyway I could for the other night.”

“Oh.”

“I know a bagel isn’t worth much compared to a life, but you can always stop by again if you’re hungry one morning, and maybe one day we’ll be even.”

“Maybe,” Red agrees, and Jason’s heart stops singing it’s song, mellowing out into a rhythm Jason knows is sure and true.

Maybe doesn’t quite mean yes, but he’ll take it over a no.


	3. Chapter 3

Jason makes it  through the rest of the week without incident. Red Robin doesn’t visit him during his mornings at the coffee shop, and Jason tries to convince himself that he’s not disappointed. He hangs out with Roy some evenings and spends other evenings steadily working on the ever present pile of schoolwork on his to-do list. He spends his nights alone in his studio apartment, wearing headphones and warm clothes to block out the noises from other tenants, the cold seeping in from the outside. It’s boring, and at times a little miserable, but when exciting means getting drugged and kidnapped by rival gang members, Jason will take a boring routine any day. 

When Friday comes around, Jason doesn’t have class, so he works his morning shift at the coffee shop and stays to cover for a sick coworker throughout the afternoon. Afterward, he goes home to his little studio and manages to take a nap, waking up just in time to shower and get dressed.

At midnight exactly, a smooth black limo pulls up on the side of the street in front of Jason’s apartment building, as it has every Friday since Jason moved in. Like every Friday before, Jason thinks about the person sitting behind the tinted windows waiting for him while dread settles heavily in his stomach. 

Like every time before, Jason goes. 

Black Mask sits on a leather cushioned seat, wearing a white tux and his signature dark skull mask that never fails to unnerve Jason. He’s silent as Jason slides into the seat across from him. Jason can’t tell what kind of mood he’s in, so he keeps in hand on the door incase he needs to make a quick escape. He also angles his body diagonally,side is pressed against the door and legs tilted toward Roman. He’ll kick him first if he needs to escape. 

Roman’s never been particularly violent toward him, other than a few heavily detailed threats when Jason’s mouth runs off too much. But Jason isn’t stupid enough to let his guard down around someone like Black Mask. 

“Hello Roman,” Jason says when it becomes clear he isn’t going to start the conversation. “You’re looking extra menacing today. Did you get your mask shined?”

“You’re not as funny as you think you are, boy. It’s going to get you in trouble one of these days.” Roman knocks twice on the viser separating the driver’s seat from the lounge area and the limo starts to move.

Jason bites his tongue to keep himself from asking where Roman is taking him. He knows Roman won’t answer him. Instead he grins and says, “Who’s to say it hasn’t already gotten me in trouble?”

Roman chuckles then, surprising Jason. “From what I’ve heard, it has.”

Jason frowns. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You had quite the adventurous Saturday night, did you not? Not only did you allow yourself to get kidnapped by the enemy, but then you’re saved by one of those vigilantes that roam the streets at night. I honestly don’t know which to be more aggravated about.”

Jason ignores the hidden threat in Roman’s words. “You had me followed,” he accuses.

“Don’t act so surprised. You know I like to keep an eye on my things.”

“I’m not yours and I’m not a thing. Maybe you should use the men you have following me to keep an eye on your actual things, like the gun shipments Batman ambushed last week.” Jason knows he’s walking on dangerous territory, and he tenses after his words, not regretting them, but definitely expecting a violent reaction.

Roman laughs-throws his head back, presses a hand against his stomach-  _ laughs _ . Jason tightens his grip on the door.

“Well then, if you truly aren’t mine,” Roman jerks forward suddenly and Jason doesn’t have time to react before Roman claims a firm grip on his jaw, “then why are you here with me right now?” His fingers dig in, sending waves of pain through his bones. 

“Why do you meet me in this limo at the same time every Friday night?” Jason’s hands fly up to Roman’s arm, imaging the move Roy taught him just a couple days ago, a simple twist that would fracture Roman’s arm in less than a second. He never gets the chance to use it though, because Roman’s free hand moves back casually to the waistband of his pants, moving his jacket back to show off the silver magnum on his side. Jason freezes, wondering quite grimly if it’s the same gun Roman used to threaten him with all those years ago.

“Why do you work for me every weekend, doing whatever I say, no matter how often you question my orders? Tell me, Jason.” Roman lets go of his hold on Jason’s jaw, fingers brushing with deceptive gentleness up his cheek, before he tangles his fingers in Jason’s hair, gripping tight enough that Jason feels some of the strands get uprooted. “Are you doing all of this because you like being in my presence, following orders like a brainless puppy? Or are you doing it because you’re mine?”

___________________

 

The limo drops him off on a street corner in between Crime Alley and New Town where three prostitutes spend Friday through Sunday nights, working through the more frustrated citizens of Gotham. Marjorie-a drag queen with an expensive wardrobe requirement, Peter-a twenty year old engineering student trying to stay out of debt, and Anna, who is just doing this because she likes it. They’re all very popular, and they all give thirty percent of their earnings each night to Mask so that he provides them with protection. 

Protection that comes in the form of Jason Todd, apparently. He doesn’t mind the new job. It’s better than the work Mask had him doing previously, unloading heavy boxes full of illegal guns into the basement of a warehouse Roman owns. Keeping an eye on the prostitutes is a much simpler task, especially since for the most part they can look after themselves. All Jason has to do is keep enough of a distance that none of the Johns or Janes notice him, and watch for any trouble. 

He pops a stick of mint gum in his mouth as he watches Peter lean over into the window of a silver sedan. He’s still trying to curb his smoking habit, something he’d picked up over years of working closely with Black Mask’s thugs. Something he’s trying to quit now under Roy’s influence. Roy drinks every now and then, but he’s not too fond of any other type of drug. Jason knows well enough that the aversion wasn’t always the case for Roy.  

He checks his watch as Marjorie disappears down a dark alley with a John at her heels. He’ll give them fifteen minutes before he goes to check on them. Marjorie is good at what she does, nothing the John is paying her for should take longer than that. 

He runs over the chapter he just read for his intro to psych class in his head as he watches Anna get out of a car that’s been inconspicuously parked on the side of the road for seven minutes now. He’s muttering through a paragraph about coping mechanisms as the car speeds off while Anna runs a hand through her hair, smoothing it out. She makes her way barefoot back to her spot, flats in hand.

Marjorie comes out of the alley after nine minutes and thirty seconds. The man following her is smiling a secretive grin as he makes his way back down the street, from wherever he came from. Instead of going back to her corner, Marjorie heads over to Jason’s spot, leaning up against the wall of an abandoned building. 

She sighs a heavy breath and presses her back against the brick wall to mirror Jason’s pose. When Jason offers her a piece of gum, she takes it with a grateful smile.

“Thank you,” she says.

“No problem,” Jason says. “He looked like he enjoyed himself.”

“People always do when they come see me.” Marjorie laughs. “And he tipped well too. I might even by myself that corset I’ve been eyeing this weekend.”

Jason nods. He hopes Marjorie does get it. Mostly because he’s tired of hearing her go on and on about it. Although Marjorie has a bit of a shopping problem, she’ll buy the corset and then be talking Jason’s ear off about how she absolutely needs a new wig when his next shift rolls around. 

Marjorie plops the gum into her mouth and chews, blowing a bubble out and letting it pop. “You didn’t look too happy when Black Mask dropped you off today. Everything okay?”

“Yeah, we just had a bit of a disagreement is all.”

Marjorie shakes her head. “You’re lucky he likes you so much. I’ve known other men to get into disagreements with Black Mask never to be seen again.”

Something hot and angry rises up in Jason. “Lucky isn’t the world I would use for it,” he growls out. 

Next to him, Marjorie shifts subtly away from him. Her caution turns his anger sour, and he forces himself to relax against the wall, sliding his hands into his pockets. “Touchy subject.”

Marjorie hums, watching him from the corner of her eye. “I can see that.”

“Sorry,” he says quietly. “I’m not...I wouldn’t-”

“I know you wouldn’t,” Marjorie spares him. “It’s just better to stay on guard when you live the kind of life we do. The weak get eaten at night out here.”

“Yeah, I know,” Jason says. He remembers the night he first met Mask all too well.

A car turns the corner onto the street they’re stationed at, headlights off despite the fact that it’s the middle of the night. Even from this distance, Jason can recognize the driver, and his anger comes back full force.

Marjorie follows his glare, turning her head to squint at the car. “Who is that?”

“Penguin’s men,” Jason says, looking at the coward who roughed him up while he was drugged last weeked. “Get Peter and Anna and get out of here.”

Marjorie doesn’t hesitate to leave, but she presses a hand against Jason’s shoulder as she passes him. “I’ll call Black Mask.”

“Only after the three of you are long gone,” he calls over his shoulder to her. Chances of Mask getting there quickly are poor, but Jason’s okay with that. He’s been itching for a bit of payback anyway.  

The car rolls to a stop directly in front of Jason. Jason grins when the driver makes eye contact with him. He snarls in the face of Jason’s amusement. He gets out of the car with the same two men that were with him that night. A pack. 

“Back so soon fellas,” Jason says as they crowd in a semicircle around him. “Did you miss me?”

“Missed that I didn’t get a chance beat your ass like I wanted to,” Generic Thug Number One says. He throws the first punch then, apparently not in a talking mood, and begins the fight. 

The thing about Jason is that he’s a big dude. He’s been a big dude since a late growth spurt at sixteen and a regular workout routine to match. He’s a big dude that knows how to fight dirty because of growing up on the streets. He’s a big dude that knows how to defend strategically thanks to Roy’s lessons. 

The thing about Jason is that the fight has always been with him, under his skin and in his blood. It makes him dangerous.

The goons should get credit for trying, sure. There’s a punch here and there that Jason can’t dodge, one that spreads fire across his bottom lip as blood drips down it, and a well aimed kick that Jason knows he’ll be feeling for the next couple days. Though, their effort doesn’t really give them much when when a fight is win or lose. Jason thinks maybe they’ll use the knowledge that at least they managed to touch him to soothe the pain of their injuries later as he lands a heavy punch to the temple of one of the goons and sends them down for the count. The second one goes down soon after when Jason manages a high kick to Thug Two’s jaw. Three against one and Jason maintains the upperhand. Roy will be so proud of him. 

Jason turns to the final man standing against him; Generic Thug Number One, the one who threw the first punch tonight, the more aggressive one on the night Alvin drugged him. He’s cocky with the thrill of so easily taking out two men all on his own, trembling with adrenaline and the taste of victory so close to him. It’s why he doesn’t notice Thug One reaching behind his waist until it’s too late. 

The gun comes out in flash, held in a steady grip as the barrel aims directly at Jason’s torso, stopping his advance forward in a terrifying rush. 

“Oh yeah,” the thug drawls. “ _ Yeah. _ You like that?” 

Jason glares, unable to do much else. The reflection of a street light catches on the metal of the gun’s handle. A shining spotlight on the true danger. Everything else around the gun is blurred, dull and unfocused as adrenaline sharpens to something more like fear.

“Not so big and bad now, huh?” The thug laughs. The force of it makes his arm holding the gun shake and Jason twitches back before freezing again. “This bad boy usually puts people right back in their place.”

"Well that hardly seems fair," says a voice from above them.

Both Jason and the thug whip their heads up to follow the sound. A patch of red catches Jason's eye, out of place against the monochrome color scheme that covers most of Gotham. He finds Red Robin perched on the metal railings of a fire escape. He's crouched on the balls of his feet, an elbow resting on his knee and his chin resting in his palm. It reminds Jason of the night not too long ago when he'd caught Red sleeping on the sign above his work. Only this time his attention is held solely by the man with the gun.

" _ You _ ," the thug snarls. 

"Me,” Red agrees. He uses the hand not holding his chin to make an L with his index finger and thumb over his forehead.

The thug curses, moving the gun to point it at Red instead. Jason’s equal parts relieved that he’s not in the line of fire anymore and horrified that now Red is.  "I can't be a loser if I'm the one to finally take you down."

Red yawns in response to the threat of death. "You'll have to turn your safety off first if you want to actually shoot me."

Jason's heart sputters a frantic warning as the thug inspects his gun, grinning up at Red wildly as his thumb moves over the safety.

"You think I won't do it," the thug mutters darkly.

"I think it'd be a very poor decision if you tried it," Red says in a bored tone.

Time is frozen then as the stand off between Red and the thug comes to a head. The thug doesn't move, though Jason can see cruel thoughts flashing behind his eyes. Red doesn’t move, still crouched in his casual position, uncaring of what an easy target he is right now. Jason wants to scream but can't seem to figure out how to work his voice box anymore.

The thug's hand merely twitches then, and Red  _ moves _ . A flash of a red blur so fast that Jason's brain can't make sense of what his eyes saw until the thug starts to scream. The gun clatters to the ground and the thug falls to his knees, holding his trigger hand close to his chest. There's some sort of red gadget sticking through it. It's red, true to the vigilante's theme, a scarlet color that seems shockingly bright compared to the blood and skin Jason can clearly see it impaling.

Red drops to the ground beside Jason lightly. He spares the now crying thug only a quick glance before he turns his back on him completely to face Jason. “The cops are on their way,” he says. “You should get out of here before they show up.”

Jason ignores the hint. “What the hell was that?”

Red frowns at his tone, crossing his arms. “What was what? Me saving your ass?” 

“You were taunting him to shoot you.”

“I knew I’d have time to hit him before he took the safety off.”

“Oh. So you’ve never missed a throw before, ever? Your aim is perfect every single time?”

“I’ve been trained by-”

“There’s still a chance,” Jason points out, still angry and shaking. “Neither of us even knew you were there until you spoke! You could have snuck up on him, or threw your little gadget at him while he was focused on me!”

Red rubs a gloved hand over his cowl. “Well I couldn’t risk him shooting you, could I?”

Jason shakes his head, too angry to be touched by Red’s words. “If you’d gotten yourself shot without taking the gun away from him, I would have been killed tonight anyway. You have to think before you act. I thought you and your buddies were supposed to be smart.”

Red’s lip curls up and he squares his shoulders. Jason knows he must have struck a nerve. “Who even are you to lecture me? I just saved your life and instead of thanks I get lectured.”

Jason winces and takes a step back, the reality of the situation hitting him all at once. Who is he really, to try and tell Red how to do his job? He's nothing to Red but another street thug, one that's too pathetic for him to even arrest.

"Right," he clips out. "Well, thank you. For saving my life. Again." He turns away to leave Red, the bleeding thug, and hopefully his embarrassment behind on the street as he heads home.

"Wait," Red calls out and Jason can't find the strength to keep walking away from him. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-" Red cuts himself off. "Why do you care anyway if this guy had shot me tonight?"

Jason turns and gives him a disbelieving look. "You can't be serious."

Red holds his hands out, palms wide. "We don't even know each other, not really. I can't think of a reason why you would be so upset."

"You've saved my life. Twice now," Jason insists. "And we've had breakfast together. I think that warrants me being a little upset if I were to watch you die, don't you agree?"

Red stares at him in silence and not for the first time, Jason finds himself desperately wishing Red wasn't wearing that cowl over half his face. All he has to read Red are his movements and his pouted, pink lips. He wonders what emotion Red's eyes would be showing right now, wonders what color his eyes are. 

Jason picks up on the sound of sirens suddenly. He can't see the blue and red flash of lights just yet, but judging by how loud they are, Jason knows it won't be long.

Red knows this too. "Let me walk you home," he says.

Jason frowns. "Don't you need to make sure he doesn't escape?"

They both look over to the injured thug on the ground not too far from them. He's still conscious, leaned against the tire of his car with his hurt hand pressed tight against his chest. He's pale and shivering, probably in shock. Jason doesn't feel all too bad for him.

"Eh, he's not going anywhere," Red says. "And even if he does, my Birdarang that I've got stuck in his hand has a tracker on it. I doubt he'll want to pull that out without a medical professional. Could make himself bleed out." Red calls the last bit over his shoulder, making sure the thug hears him, before he turns back to Jason. "So, do you wanna get out of here or not?"

"Sure," Jason says slowly. He makes a point not to mention how the last time they'd talked, Red had warned him to keep his distance. "We better start walking though. Cops will be here soon." He throws a thumb over his shoulder.

Red smiles at him, showing off perfect, white teeth and Jason's heart does a funny little dance in his chest. Before Jason can do something stupid, like inset his foot directly into his mouth by informing Red just how attractive he finds the bottom half of his face, Red speaks up again.

"How about we fly instead?"

Rather than answer the question that's clearly written on Jason's face, Red reaches into his utility belt and pulls out what looks to be a modified grappling hook. As Jason watches Red get it ready, it finally dawns on him what Red had meant by flying. He feels his own smile start to spread across his face as he moves closer.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you liked this, feel free to leave a comment and/or a kudos!  
> You can also find me screaming about fandom stuff at [Pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.io/glaciya)  
> [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/glaciya) and [Twitter!](https://twitter.com/glaciiya)


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